


Through Our Lives

by summerroad7



Category: Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Pining Alex, Unconventional Character Death, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-10 23:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerroad7/pseuds/summerroad7
Summary: Alex was a ghost trapped in an old car since the 70s. One day, his car was bought by a lively young man walking pass by.





	1. I Want The One I Can’t Have

I Want The One I Can’t Have

+

The man dropped his smile the moment he got inside his car.

Technically, it’s also Alex’s car, for he had been living in this damn thing since the 70s. Out of all the boring owners, Miles Kane was the only one that somehow kept Alex awake, sitting on the backseat just to watch him driving.

It was one of those days. Miles went out just to have a fight with his girlfriend. Alex could never figure out why they were still together, since all they did was arguing about everything possible, from the dinner place to the name of stars in the sky. Alex was not very pleased when Miles locked the door, looking stressed but also scarily charming as he walked towards the restaurant. He was even grumpier when Miles came back midway during the disastrous dinner, driving down the street like there was no tomorrow.

He ended up going into a bar. As always, Miles was back in the car just a few minutes before the next day came, giving himself a break after always being that happy energy ball in the room. Without the usual smile on his face, the man always looked a bit lost. Alex wondered how bad it was for him today. The relationship clearly depressed him.

Alex only realized it must be extra ugly when Miles didn’t start the car after five minutes of silence. He slightly panicked, the grouchy manner slipping away. Alex floated to the front seat to see what’s wrong with his human “carmate”.

Miles had his face hidden in his shaking hands.

He was crying.

“Miles？” Alex asked softly. Judging from the heavy smell of smoke and alcohol, he was pretty sure Miles would remember nothing in the morning. He made himself appear on the front seat, his transparent body taking up the empty space that still smelled like her unpleasant fragrance. “What happened?”

“...k up.” Miles didn’t recognize Alex’s presence with his eyes. But he replied anyway. “It’s over.”

“Good for you.” Alex stared at his strained, saddened shoulder. “Why were you even trying?”

“Don’t know.” Miles’ sob was barely audible. “Maybe she’s right. There’s really something wrong with me…see! I’m sitting in me car, talking to the car ghost!”

Alex was a bit offended. But he decided now Miles was too pathetic to take his retorts. Instead of talking back, Alex run his fingers through the sideburns that he personally thought was _a horrible, horrible mistake_. He added randomly: “You can call me Alexander, you know.”

Slowly, Miles put his hands down on the knees and turned to the side, eyes searching for Alex’s face. He blinked off the tears. One drop fell on Alex’s wrist. The salt it contained burned him. Alex grimaced slightly, pulling away.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Miles watched him intensely. Alex got lost in his eyes sometimes, losing his train of thoughts. Not this time though.

“I don’t hate your lady. I’m just confused. How can you love her if she brings you nothing but pain?” He leaned over again, this time avoiding the salty water carefully. Miles let out a surprised chuckle when Alex grabbed at his messed-up tie. “No no, I get it. I’m just too old for this love shit.”

“You don’t look old to me.” Miles slurred, again forcing a smile. He had that bad habit to please people if there were any around. Most of the days Miles did it out of instinct. It was a dangerous built-in function of him (Alex had known some funny people in his time, but Miles managed to be a special one in the strangest way). However, no matter how natural he was, it sometimes came to the point where he was too drained to be a pleaser.

Fortunately, Alex was no human and Miles didn’t think he was real.

He looked back at a very smashed Miles. “It’s okay.” _To be sad, to be heartbroken, to cry and mourn for his (not-so-unfortunate) loss or whatever._ Alex didn’t have to finish the sentence. Miles sighed with relief. He was still shaking uncontrollably with distress, although Alex doubted that he had noticed at all.

“I just wanna go home.” Miles admitted, reaching for the wheel. It was dim enough for Alex to miss the pain in his eyes if Alex wasn’t paying full attention. _He was._ He always did when Miles was in the car with him.

Alex let go of him. “It’s not safe for you to drive.” He pointed out nonchalantly, knowing he could always just adjust the car to save Miles from crashing into some poor rubbish bins on the street. Miles laughed out loud at his words. This time it sounded genuine. “It’s also not safe talking to my car ghost. Look at me right now. “

Alex smiled back.

The drive was long and silent. Miles passed out before the car even came to full stop. He had too much to drink. The tiny place smelled more like booze and less like him. Another thing that Alex was not so happy about. Despite so, Alex moved the car to its usual spot in the yard so that it wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. 

The light in the car flickered a few times before going out completely. In the masking darkness, Alex decided to stay and watched over _his_ human.

+

Matt didn’t believe him when Alex said he was just having some fun.

“You don’t show yourself to living creatures, for fuck sake!” He knocked on the window of the car angrily, making Alex’s head pounding. Matt was one of his ghost friends. Alex could not leave the car for very long, so they sometime came over to visit him. Alex regretted telling Matt about Miles. He should have seen it coming: a ten feet long essay on how wrong it was to talk and touch a living human being.

Matt didn’t even know half of it. Alex smirked, walking out of the car to greet his friend. He wondered how they would react if they knew there was something even darker and more twisted in his mind.

_Miles bought Alex’s car from a second-hand market when he walked pass by the place. He was usually too much of a posh brat to buy things like an old Ford, but this one looked “BOSS” according to him (Alex found his vocabulary quite amusing)._

_He was first tempted to scare this man away when Miles wanted to paint the car bright red, but Miles was humming a lovely tune when he checked the old green paint and Alex just couldn’t get himself to do so._ _It was raining and the day couldn’t be gloomier, yet Miles was singing Here Comes the Sun. Alex’s gaze was glued on his eyes when Miles rose up from the ground._

_It bothered him when Miles looked through him, unaware of Alex’s existence._

“I don’t see anything special. You’re just head over heel in love with him.” They sat on the hood together. Alex shrugged, casting his sight back at the open window. Miles was watching some boring TV program in the living room, fiddling with his guitar. Alex would go inside and sit next to him if Matt was not here.

Alex gestured casually in the cold air. “What I’m doing…it’s creepy, innit?”

“Alex, this is not going to end well.” Matt gave him a look of vexation. Alex laughed so hard that he nearly fell over. He put his non-existing hands up, letting a withered leaf pass through his palm. Alex looked down, avoiding his friend’s worrying gaze. On the pavement, a small beetle was struggling to get back into the grass. It was petty, vulnerable and _alive_.

“It’s ended already, Matt.” The words left his mouth bitterly as a death sentence to a fantasy.

After nearly fifty years of death, suddenly Alex realized living could have been something good if it was with someone he just couldn’t have.

+TBC+


	2. Please, Please Please Let Me Get What I Want

Please, Please Please Let Me Get What I Want

+

“…but what exactly is so special about him?” Jamie asked, curiosity masking the hostility in his voice. Alex put on his most dramatic expression. He’d beat many actors of today with that. “What’s so special about love?”

“You never believed the love thing back then, Al.” Nick pointed out.

Alex gave him a cocky smile. “Back then I was human.”

+

At first, it all worked out pretty well: Alex sat on the backseat of the car, making mean comments about Miles’ outfits when he dressed up like some mid-age lady from Alex’s time. He was about the same age when Alex died, living alone in a small house in East London, having too many colourful things in his closet and too many coffee capsules in his cupboard.

Alex was supposed to soon find him rather boring and went back to sleep, just like with all the other owners of his car. However, one day when he followed Miles into his study room, he found the small place packed with records, guitars and an old piano. Miles sat down on the piano bench, playing casually while checking that little demonic smart phone of his.

He had every record of the Beatles. It made Alex nostalgic somehow. He couldn’t help but moved one of them, making it fall to the ground. Miles was startled by the noise. For a moment, he looked confused, peering into the air where Alex was.

A contagious smile showed up on his face, making Alex smile with him without a second thought. It felt like they were communicating, although he knew Miles didn’t see him at all.

Miles put that record on. _Rubber Soul._ Alex’s favourite.

From then on, Alex did that all the time. He would get in the study room before Miles came in and move whatever he wanted to listen to, pushing them to an obvious spot. Miles gave up on the idea that something was wrong after Alex’s third try (He just had way too many records).

He was there when Miles put on the music. He was there when Miles wrote down his own. He was there when Miles sang bits of his ideas out loud while strumming the guitar. In just two weeks, Alex completely forgot he was supposed to be the grumpy old ghost in the car. He even found a leopard print shirt quite _adorable_ when Miles decided to wear it to the studio.

The band he's in though, did not earn Alex’s appreciation. _Too many weeds and too little talent._

It was one night after a particular long session of recording and frustrating argument, Miles went out the studio. He was alone, quivering with anger and looking like a sad puppy. Alex waited in the car when he drove himself to the nearest bar. When Miles came back, he was pissed as hell, struggling to even keep his eyes open.

Alex moved to the front seat. If you asked him, he would tell you a ghost could also be possessed by a ghost and that’s why he did it. Miles sat there in silence, his breath heavy and laboured.

“You should quit the band.” Alex said abruptly. His voice filled the void in the car.

Miles jumped up clumsily, blinking at a very empty seat beside himself. “Wha…” He blinked again when Alex made himself visible to him and him only. Different to any horror film, no screaming or crying was involved in their first encounter. Miles just laughed. “Am I dreaming?”

“Not yet, but you’ll be pretty soon.” Alex answered. It had been nearly half a century since anyone saw him. He suddenly felt very self-conscious, if that was possible for a ghost to do.

“Oh.” Miles gave him another smile. He smelled like a dead mouse in a trench, yet all Alex could think about was how attractive those eyes were when they focused (barely) on his transparent body. He was even more stunned when Miles actually started to talk to him. “Wh—why’d you say that?”

+

Alex never had a conversation with a sober Miles Kane.

Miles didn’t remember much about those nights. Even if he did, they must seem too vague and ridiculous to be true. However, something in his behaviour changed. Alex didn’t know when it started, but he could tell Miles was smoking more weeds when he was alone at home because they were talking more and more often.

Mostly their conversations were just about music. Alex wrote some of the songs with him. Miles would write their ideas down on his notebook in his funny handwriting. In some nights, his hands shook too hard and they were impossible to read the next day. Some other nights, he fell asleep on the bench with a pen still in one hand and woke up with awe and happiness on his face.

Miles never showed the songs to anyone. It was one thing that Alex just could not understand.

+

Miles had not been happy with his girlfriend since the first day Alex saw them together.

He didn’t realize Miles was with someone until they drove to the West End and he was greeted by a lovely lady in red, waiting on the pavement. Miles pulled her close and kissed her on the lips. _The kids today would probably shag on the street._ Alex rolled his eyes.

What made him fidget on the backseat had to be annoyance, not _jealousy._

+

Alex was known as a “napper”: He used to be reluctant to get out of the car even for the biggest ghost party on Halloweens. Now he was awake all the time, lingering in Miles’ small home.

He was there when Miles made coffee and scrambled eggs in the morning. He was there when Miles took a shower and change into his fancy pyjamas. He was there when Miles brought his now ex-girlfriend back for the night. He was there when Miles was heartbroken and drunk and had strangers in his arms.

Deep down, Alex knew how this would end. He sat in the dark living room, staring at the knives in the sink. The only noise was the faint sign of sex from the bedroom. Alex went back to the car, but that was as far as he could go. _He could never leave Miles if he still owned the car._

It must be some weird possessiveness that made him cling to the impossible daydreams. Not love. He was a dead man. He had been a dead man for so long. There was no way he could fall in love with some human being from the new century who owned a twitter and an instengram (Or was it Instagram?) account.

Alex thought about it. He thought about the sudden impulse of crushing the car into a trunk while Miles was driving. That way he would be dead too and Alex could have him for real. He’d finally be able to talk to his human when Miles was a hundred percent himself.

+

Alex didn’t know where else he could go.

It never occurred to him to try to fall asleep again.

+

“I said I’m going to leave. I mean..the band.”

It was Friday and Miles had no company tonight. Alex was glaring at the marks on his neck, which were left by a young boy whose name happened to escape his ghost head. He caught Alex’s gaze. Weirdly, Miles’ ears went pink. He coughed slightly, adjusting his collar with his drunk fingers. “You know, as my imaginary friend, you are not supposed to look at me like…like that.”

Alex made a face. He should be used to being treated as a fake, a phantom or a dream. But every time it still got his nerves. Miles giggled, knocking over his half-empty beer can. He sounded almost apologetic, defending himself. “Hey, I’m not that narcissistic!”

“I doubt that.” Alex sneered in a light tone. He loved it too much whenever they had a real conversation, so he was not wasting it on being an old baby. “I’m happy for you, Miles. You deserve better.”

Miles’ eyes dimmed. “You always say that.” He whispered, bending down to get the can. His words had Alex curdle in the air. For a moment it almost felt like he had grown a beating heart again, and it was trying to burst out of his cold chest. _Please._ He prayed desperately. _Please let him remember this when it's daytime. Just for this once._

When Miles sat back up, his eyes were glossy, filled with hesitance, fear and tenderness. The short syllable rolled off his tongue for the first time. “Thanks…Al.”

Alex never felt more alive even when he actually was breathing.

+TBC+


	3. I Know It’s Over (But It’s Not)

I Know It’s Over (But It’s Not)

 

+

The songs they wrote together were more than enough for an album. Maybe even two.

Miles sorted his draft with clumsy hands. He giggled madly when Alex tried to help but the paper went through his transparent fingers. “We should … we should form a band.” Miles pointed at him, smiling warmly. He’d forget he even think of it in the morning. But still, his proposal had Alex crack, laughing like a baby.

Sometimes Alex wondered if Miles knew how endearing he could be.

+

Miles was wasted. It was at the exact point where his hands were not too shaky to write things down, but his head was not too clear to remember.

 _The Sheffield city center in December… always cold and grey._ Alex told him. He also told him about the dream he had last night with Miles in it: _The streets were the same as in his memory. A lonesome train whistle shook the howling wind. Alex was having a laugh with his mates. Miles was by his side, holding his hand in those delicate fingers.When they walked the street together, all the faces seemed to smile back._ “Isn’t it boring when I talk about my dreams?” In a soft and smooth voice, he sang quietly.

Miles looked at him with a river of cinnamon hot chocolate running in his eyes. “Don’t be silly.” He smiled, showing his crooked teeth to Alex. _The harmless flaws._ Alex loved those about him just as much. “I love your voice.”

Their conversations had become more and more dangerous since Miles started to call Alex by his name. Miles was a flirt. That was the way he talked anyway, making Alex bold himself. “Just my voice, huh?"

Another two shots of whiskey. Miles looked down, hands grabbing his knees tightly. “And you. Just…you.” Miles hiccupped a little in his sentence. He sounded so small and scared. Suddenly, Miles sat up straight, downing the rest of the bottle in one go. When he looked at Alex again, his eyes were red.

For a second, Alex forgot how to speak. He could see the reflection of himself in Miles’ eyes: A cloud of mist in the air. Those eyes had made him an addict. _Although a ghost could not die, Miles was for sure killing him._

When the push of alcohol left, Miles recoiled slightly, a sneer leaving his trembling lips. “I’m so pathetic.” He burst into humorless laughter. “Have to imagine someone to love me back.”

In just one second, the comfortable air in Miles’ living room became thick and dreadful. “You’re drunk.” Alex snapped. They had talked about this for so many times. Alex just couldn’t understand how Miles could be so stubborn. “Go to bed, Miles. Don’t fall asleep on the settee again.”

Miles glared back. “Why? You’re not even real!”

His familiar words were like daggers in Alex’s dead soul. Something in his mind must have shown on Alex’s face, for the angry venom rushed away from Miles’ face instantly. He slurred in a thin voice. “Alex, Al, don’t go! I’m sorrie—so sorry…please don’t leave me here—”

Alex disappeared right in front of him.

+

“Why’d you run?” Nick asked in confusion. He was the only ghost that didn’t try to judge Alex’s POOR judgment. “I thought that’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Alex spared a glance at the light in Miles’ bedroom. “He knew I was about to go.” He finally replied, rather reluctantly. “It’s almost like he can read my mind.”

Nick was only more puzzled. “It’s a good thing, innit?”

“I don’t know any more.” Alex answered honestly.

At first, he only wanted Miles to remember his name. Later on, he couldn’t help but want Miles to be his, _only and completely_. _He never really expected Miles to love him back._ Now he knew Miles did, all Alex wanted was to be ALIVE. He wanted it so bad that it became unbearable. He sighed. “He deserves better.”

Nick gave him a pitiful look. “Maybe you two will find a way.”

They both knew how thin the chance was.

+

Miles missed at least five phone calls last week.

When he was awake and sober, he seldom left the house, glancing at every shadow with unease. Alex wanted so bad to talk to him when Miles was caging himself like that. However, at night, with the help of alcohol and weed, Miles was happy around him and Alex… _Alex was only happy when Miles was around._

The drinking time became earlier and earlier until Friday afternoon when Miles woke up to all the bottles being empty. “Fuck.” He rubbed at his forehead, groaning loudly. Alex was outside, peeking through the window. The raindrops passed him through one by one.

Miles murmured something that Alex couldn’t pick up from afar. When he floated inside, Miles had leaned against the wall, breathing desperately through his mouth like he could not get enough air in his lungs. “Miles!” Alex approached him, though his concerned words unheard. He was worried that it might be his asthma. However, Alex soon realized Miles was having a breakdown. Tears fell and his face was clouded with agony. Miles whispered under his breath again and Alex just realized what Mile was doing earlier.

_He was calling Alex’s name._

Those fingers that Alex fancied so much were pulling at his hair roughly. Miles banged his head backwards on the wall. His legs gave out and Miles fell on the floor, still crying.

Alex was shattered. “Miles.” He kneeled down, showing himself when it was still daytime and Miles had neither drinks nor smokes to numb himself. “Miles, I’m right here. Look at me?”

His human did. When Miles caught sight of Alex, he choked out an unrecognizable sob, stretching one hand to touch Alex’s wrist.

In Alex’s head, he had pictured this exact moment over and over again. Yet as Miles’ warm fingers touched nothing but the empty air, it still hurt Alex beyond his imagination.

“Am I crazy?” Miles blinked away his tears. His hand fell on the floor, and he made theirs thumbs touching. “What are you?”

Alex wanted to cry himself, if only he could. “I’m…I was just like you.” He cracked. “I died in 1974.”

Slowly Miles withdrew his hand. He covered his eyes and said nothing. Not a single question was asked.

Alex felt like it was the right time for him to go.

+

Miles went to see a therapist.

“At least he was not calling an exorcist.” Jamie threw his arm around Alex’s shoulder. They were sitting in the car just like the old times: Nick on the driver’s seat, Matt beside him, Alex and Jamie on the back.

“He’d come around, Al. Don’t worry.” Nick comforted him.

Matt didn’t say anything at first. Alex was not in the mood to hear “I’ve told you so” or “You know humans are better off without a ghost lover”. Alex was frustrated, angry and HEARTBROKEN.

Finally, Matt turned to the back and meet Alex’ gaze. “Are you alright?” He asked cautiously, concern unhidden in his voice. Alex remembered Matt asking the same question that morning before they had the accident. He suddenly felt so lost, being pushed back to the days when the world was much more cruel, cold and unappealing.

“No.” Alex closed his eyes. He just saw Miles walking out of the front door of the clinic. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Al.” Matt surprised him. “It’s his lost if he can’t get his head—”

Miles pulled the door open violently. Nick run to the back, leaving the driver’s seat to Miles. “Go, I’ll be fine.” Alex hugged him awkwardly on the crowded backseat. Matt was the last one to leave. He squeezed Alex’s hand briefly before disappearing in the thin air.

Miles knew nothing about the ghosts in his car. Right now, Alex didn’t think Miles would believe his own eyes even if he saw them.

+

One night Miles woke up screaming.

Alex was trying his best to sleep in the car. He failed pathetically when the noise came out of the window. In a blink he was in the bedroom, staring at a very confused, panicked Miles. “Al?” Miles was not fully awake yet, glancing around his room like a lost puppy. Alex was so tempted to show himself when Miles was calling him like that.

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t leave until the room was basking in the sun.

+

James Ford came to visit.

He was one of Miles’ friends whose name Alex remembered properly. Miles hadn’t gotten rid of the mess he made during those long nights he spent with Alex. Ford frowned slightly at the empty bottles and cigarette butts, saying nothing.

Miles went into the kitchen to make tea. Ford sat down on the settee at Miles’ usual spot, picking up a ball of paper under the tea table just to kill time.

Alex saw him doing it. It was the first time that other people had taken a look at what they wrote together. On that particular piece of paper, it was the song he sang to Miles when Alex told him about Sheffield and his dreams.

Immediately, Alex felt extremely uncomfortable. He knocked over one of the bottles deliberately. However, even the noise didn’t distracted Ford. He looked at those hardly recognizable lyrics and chords, totally amazed.

“Come and help me here, James! I’m out of— what are you doing?” Miles dropped the tray way too hard. He snatched the paper back, panting slightly and glaring at Ford.

“Is it yours?” Ford ignored Miles’ weird reaction. “That’s amazing! The words are unlike what you usually do—I mean, unlike anything I’ve seen, to be honest.”

Miles held the paper close to his chest. His face hard and unreadable. “Yeah, I know.” He folded the paper warily, trying to sound indifferent. “It’s good work.”

“Good work is an understatement.” Ford laughed, fetching himself another ball of paper on the floor. Miles protested immediately, but Ford dodged Miles’ hands and opened the next one. That one was still unfinished. They’ve got all the lyrics, but Miles kept saying the tune was not good enough.

Alex almost wanted to take it out of Ford’s hand himself.

“Miles, you should record them.” Ford said firmly, excitement filled his body. “Those are damn interesting!”

“I can’t.” Miles finally got hold of the draft. He put this one back in his pocket as well, solving Alex’s long-time puzzle why he never showed any of those songs to other people. “And the first one’s not my song.”

_Miles Kane never ceased to beat Alex’s expectations._

“It’s written by…a friend of mine.” Miles dropped his head and voice at the same time. Alex loved him too much that his soul ached for him. “This one has parts for both of us. No way I’m doing duets with some random guy.”

Ford didn’t quite get it. “What? Then just call him. Record the songs together! Who is that anyway? Do I know him?”

“No.” Miles shook his head. “He’s…he WAS me best mate.”

+

Miles missed his next therapy session deliberately.

Instead, he drove aimlessly in the suburbs of London. Alex sat in the backseat, observing him in silence. It almost felt like everything was “normal” and he was just waiting for Miles to get back, having a couple of drinks so that they could talk till the morning light.

It struck him that he might never be able to talk to Miles again, drunk or not.

The realization only made Alex wanted him more.

Miles didn’t come back home and get wasted. He didn’t come back at all. At one point, he seemed so intrigued by the lights outside the window that both of his hands came of the wheel. Alex had to stopped him from crashing into one of the lamp-poles several times before Miles finally pull the car over.

“Alex, I know you’re here.” Miles was breathing fast and his eyes were bright. “I’m so sorry.”

Alex kept quiet and invisible.

“Please, let me see you.” He pleaded. “I’m so stupid. I should’ve never doubted— Al, I know you are real. I always knew.”

Alex was never too good at resisting his demand, let alone his begging.

“Well you surely know how to woo a ghost.” Alex mocked him bitterly, slowly showing himself. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Driving like a mad man? What if I’m not in the fucking car?”

Miles’ face lightened up the second he saw Alex’s transparent body. He smiled nervously, and Alex could tell he was telling the truth by the way he’s fidgeting. “Sometimes you looked at me…like you wanted me dead. I just thought even if I was unlucky—”

How funny. Only months ago, Alex often thought about killing Miles to make him his. Now he resented himself for even having this idea. “No! Don’t you dare.” He rushed to interrupt Miles, flashing and relocating himself on the front seat. “Promise me you’d never seek for death.”

Miles was stunned by his small trick. His mouth hanging open, looking like a kid in cinema for the first time. “I promise.” Miles looked at him up and down, his breathing shallow and uneven. “Al, I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” Alex shushed him. “Don’t move.”

He leaned in, leaving a ghost kiss on Miles lips.

+

“I was in a band with my friends. We were doing great, you know? Playing gigs around the city and people loved us. It was one fucking night, someone caught me kissing a boy in the alley and apparently it was a big thing in the 70s. Soon everybody in town knew. Me mates, they didn’t give a shit about it. But someone thought he had to do God’s work and broke the brake on me car.” Alex caught Miles’ gaze. He reassured him with a smile. “It’s alright. That was history.”

“That’s murder!” Miles spitted out angrily. “Do you know who did that?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore.” Alex shrugged. Miles wanted to argue, but Alex didn’t let him. “Now you can just flirt with boys in the bar endlessly. One good thing about the present days, innit?”

Miles gasped. “I— are you—you watch me all the time?”

“I know all your pickup lines, Miles.” Alex said, a bit exaggerated.

Miles blushed lightly, giving him a sly grin. “You’re jealous.”

“I am.” Alex admitted. Before he could stop himself, the truth had left his mouth. “I envy them, all of them. I envy your friend. I envy the cashier of the convenience store you always go to. Miles, you see…I can’t have you. I can’t feel your skin and you can’t feel my existence.”

Miles was saddened instantly. “You’ve had me already.” He corrected him gently. “You’re my best friend, my inspiration, the love of my life.”

Alex put his hands up. “I’m a ghost.”

“I know.” Miles smiled. “Form a band with me?”

+

After being asked probably 100 times, Alex gave in. “Even if I agree, Miles, there’s no way to record me voice.” He laughed out sadly, shaking his head. “Just put it as your solo work and do my parts for me, wouldn’t you?”

“No, Al. No fucking way.” Miles insisted. Sometimes he was so daft and stubborn and it’s unfairly that Alex found him so charming at those particular moments. “It has to be you and me both. We’ll find a way to make a ghost record.”

Alex stared, while Miles just winked at him smugly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I have a ghost as me boyfriend. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

+

“We should think of a name.”

“Kane and Turner ‘s project sounds good enough to me.”

“Fuck off, Miles.”

“You were in a band with monkeys in its name, I don’t trust—”

“Shadow Puppets?”

“What—Ah. Oh. I like that! It fits…We’re the last ones as well.”

“Okay then… what about _The Last Shadow Puppets_?”

 

+END+

**Author's Note:**

> I was drunk and listening to The Smiths when writing this so plz forgive me


End file.
